


Luffy D. Monkey and the Philosopher’s Stone

by Emelie_Jinton02



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, Minor Monkey D. Luffy/Nami
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:40:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29427558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emelie_Jinton02/pseuds/Emelie_Jinton02
Summary: At the age of eleven, Luffy finds out he’s a wizard and starts at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry where he immediatly finds an adventure with his friends.
Relationships: Monkey D. Dragon/Charlotte Brûlée
Kudos: 8





	Luffy D. Monkey and the Philosopher’s Stone

The Dadan family, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious.

Magra was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. His overall appearance resembles that of a chicken. He has what appears to be a wattle on his chin, and a comb on his bald head. He has a mustache and sideburns, and big eyelashes. Dadan was a rather tall and overweight woman with long, orange, curly hair and a big, musculine face, and was often seen smoking a cigarette. Dogra's most distinctive trait was his short height. The Dadan family was raising a small boy called Ace and in their opinion there was no more annoying brat anywhere.

The Dadan family had, except that, everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Monkeys. Dragon D. Monkey was Dadan's brother, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Dadan pretended she didn't have a brother, because her brother and his good-for-nothing wife were as unDadanish as it was possible to be. The Dadan family shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Monkeys arrived in the street. The Dadan family knew that the Monkeys had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Monkeys away; they didn't want another brat in the house.

When Magra, Dadan and Dogra woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story started, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Magra hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, Dogra was brushing his teeth, and Dadan grumbled bitterly as she wrestled a screaming Ace into his high chair.

None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window.

At half past eight, Magra and Dogra picked up their briefcases, said goodbye to Dadan, and tried to say goodbye to Ace but he was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls.

"Little tyke," chortled Dogra as he and Magra left the house. They got into their car and Magra backed out of number four's drive.

It was on the corner of the street that Magra noticed the first sign of something peculiar -- a bird reading a map. For a second, Magra didn't realize what he had seen -- then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a blonde man standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map or a bird in sight. It must have been a trick of the light. Magra blinked and stared at the man. He stared back. As Magra drove around the corner he gave himself a little shake and put the man out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.

But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of them standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Magra and Dogra arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, Magra's mind back on drills.

Magra always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Magra, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery.

He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them as he passed. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.

"The Monkeys, that's right, that's what I heard--"

"-- yes, their son, Luffy--"

Magra stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.

He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking... no, he was being stupid. He was sure there were lots of people called Monkey who had a son called Luffy. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure Dadan's nephew was called Luffy. He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Larry. Or Lucas. There was no point in worrying the boss; she always got so upset at any mention of her brother. 

He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.

"Sorry," he panicked, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Magra realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating this happy, happy day!"

And the old man hugged Magra around the middle and walked off.

Magra stood rooted to the spot as Dogra walked up behind him. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, which the bosses' kind called them. He hurried to his car, ignoring Dogra's confusion and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things.

As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw -- was the bird he'd spotted that morning. It was sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.

Trying to pull himself together, he let himself and Dogra into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his boss.

Dadan had had a normal day. She told them over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Ace had learned a new word ("Won't!"). Magra tried to act normally. When Ace had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:

"And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"

"Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early -- it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."

Magra sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Monkeys...

Dadan came into the living room carrying a bottle of booze. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er -- boss -- you haven't heard from your brother lately, have you?"

As he had expected, Dadan looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a brother.

"No," she said sharply. "Why?"

"Funny stuff on the news," Magra mumbled. "Owls... shooting stars... and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today..."

"So?" snapped Dadan.

"Well, I just thought... maybe... it was something to do with... you know... your kind."

Dadan sipped her booze through pursed lips. Magra wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Monkey." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son -- he'd be about three years younger than Ace now, wouldn't he?"

"I suppose so," said Dadan stiffly.

"What's his name again? Lucy, isn't it?"

"Luffy."

He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Dadan was in the bathroom, Magra crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The bird was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something.

Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Monkeys? 

The Dadan family got into bed. Dadan and Dogra fell asleep quickly but Magra lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Monkeys were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him, Dadan and Dogra. He couldn't see how he, Dadan and Dogra could get mixed up in anything that might be going on -- he yawned and turned over -- it couldn't affect them...

How very wrong he was.

Magra might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the bird on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the bird moved at all.

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The bird's wings twitched and its eyes narrowed.

Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was an abnormally large man. He had a long face and many scars running along his chest, and was very muscular. He had a prominent crescent-shaped mustache and long, blond flowing hair. He was wearing a white jacket over his bare-chest and light, loose pants that was tucked inside his large black boots, and a dark sash around his waist. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Edward Newgate, also known as Whitebeard.

Whitebeard didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his jacket, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the bird, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the bird seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "Gu ra ra ra ra. I should have known."

He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again -- the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Whitebeard slipped the Put-Outer back inside his jacket and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the bird. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Marco."

He turned to smile at the bird, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather sleepy-looking man who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. He was a tall, lean, muscular, blonde-haired man with some stubble around his chin. He was wearing an open purple jacket and a light blue sash adorned with an elaborate golden-yellow belt around his waist. He had dark gray pants and black boots. On his bare chest he had a tattoo that was of a cross and a crescent moon mustache symbol. He looked distinctly ruffled.

"Pops, yoi" he answered with a nod.

He threw a sideways glance at Whitebeard, as though hoping he was going to tell him something. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all with their partying. I suppose he really has gone, pops?"

"It certainly seems so," said Whitebeard. "We have much to be thankful for."

"As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone--"

"My son, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense -- for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Kaido." Marco flinched, but Whitelock, who was opening a bottle of booze, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Kaido's name."

"I know you haven't," said Marco. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Kaido, was frightened of, yoi."

"You flatter me," said Whitebeard calmly. "Kaido had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too -- well -- noble to use them."

"Gu ra ra ra ra. It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Rouge told me she liked my new earmuffs."

Marco shot a sharp look at Whitebeard and said "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what they're saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

It seemed that Marco had reached the point he was most anxious to discuss, the real reason he had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a bird nor as a man had he fixed his father with such a piercing stare as he did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, he was not going to believe it until Whitebeard told him it was true. Whitebeard, however, was taking a swing from his bottle and did not answer.

"What they're saying," he pressed on, "is that last night Kaido turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Monkeys. The rumor is that Dragon and Brûlée are -- are -- that they're -- dead."

Whitebeard bowed his head. Marco gasped.

"Brulée and Dragon... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it..."

"I know... I know... " Whitebeard said heavily.

Marco's voice trembled as he went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Monkey's son, Luffy. But he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Luffy D. Monkey, Kaido's power somehow broke -- and that's why he's gone."

Whitebeard nodded glumly.

"It's -- it's true ?" faltered Marco. "After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Luffy survive?"

"We can only guess," said Whitebeard. "We may never know."

Whitebeard took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Whitebeard, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Garp's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Marco. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Luffy to his aunt. It was Garp's idea."

"You don't mean - you can't mean the people who live here?" exclaimed Marco, jumping to his feet and pointing at number four. "Pops -- you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find people who are less like us. And they've got his son -- I saw him kicking Dadan all the way up the street. Luffy D. Monkey come and live here!"

"I don't agree with him," said Whitebeard firmly. "But since Dadan is Garp's daughter, I really can’t say anything."

"What is wrong with Garp? Dadan will never understand him! He'll be famous -- a legend -- I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Luffy D. Monkey day in the future -- there will be books written about Luffy -- every child in our world will know his name!"

"I know." said Whitebeard. "Garp said it would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! I do agree that it will be much better if he'll grow up away from all that until he's ready to take it."

Marco opened his mouth, changed his mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes -- yes, he's right about that, of course. But how is the boy getting here, pops?" He eyed his jacket suddenly as though he thought he might be hiding Luffy underneath it.

"Garp's bringing him."

"You think it's -- wise -- to trust Garp with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Garp with my life," said Whitebeard.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Marco grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to -- what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky -- and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was a tall, tanned, broad-chested, muscular man. He had a beard and a scar over his left eye. His eyes were blue and his hair was black, with sideburns that were beginning to whiten. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.

"Garp," said Whitebeard, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Eddie," said the old man, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Rayleigh lent it to me. I've got him."

"No problems, were there?"

"No, -- house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarming around. He fell asleep as we were flying over Bristol."

Whitebeard and Marco bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under his eye they could see a scar.

"Is that where -- ?" whispered Marco.

"Yes," said Garp. "He'll have that scar forever."

"Couldn't pops do something about it?"

"Even if he could, I wouldn't let him. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself on my thigh that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well -- here he is, Eddie -- we'd better get this over with."

Whitebeard took Luffy in his arms and turned toward the Dadan family's house.

Whitebeard stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Luffy gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his jacket, tucked it inside Luffy's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Garp's fists were clenched as a trembled with fury, Marco was wiping his eyes under his glasses, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Whitebeard's eyes seemed to have gone out.

"Well," said Whitebeard finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Garp in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Rayleigh his bike back. G'night, Marco -- Eddie."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Garp swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, my son," said Whitebeard, nodding to him. Marco sent him a glance.

Whitebeard turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a blue cat flying away. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

"Good luck, Luffy," he murmured. He turned on his boots and with a swish of his jacket, he was gone.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Luffy D. Monkey rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Dadan's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his new adopted brother Ace... He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Luffy D. Monkey -- the boy who lived!"


End file.
